


Guardian Angel

by WorldOfDemons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 06:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4294803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorldOfDemons/pseuds/WorldOfDemons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have been Dean's guardian angel since he was born. He hasn't exactly made it easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian Angel

I was good at what I did - the best really. No other angel was as connected with humanity as I was. No other angel really cared anymore. They left their charges, left the humans they were suppose to be guarding to their own devices. I’ve been asked a million times over the centuries, “You stay on earth, why?” “Why are you never in heaven?” “Why do you care about humanity?” “What’s wrong with you?” They forget who I am, who we’re supposed to be, what the mission of Guardian Angels was. Not I that I needed to worry about it for long. 

When Dean Winchester was born, I was there. From the moment he took a breath into his body, I was his guardian. My job was to protect him. That was my only job. That’s what many Guardians forgot. Protecting humanity was their job. I never forgot.  
Dean wasn’t a particularly bad baby. He didn’t really cry like some kids. And it didn’t change as a toddler. He got into trouble, some mistakes I let him make. When he was three, I allowed him to touch the hot stove his mother was cooking on. Another Guardian, Hester, questioned me. I told her that he had to learn and that I couldn’t protect him from everything. She didn’t understand – or even try to understand. Angels can be stubborn like that. 

When he was four years old, I was forced into Heaven. “Required by the Archangels,” the message said. “Everyone must attend.” Everyday since I regretted it. On that day, Dean’s life changed. If I had been there like I was every other night, I would have felt the demonic presence in Sam’s nursery. I would have fought it. Would I have won? I’ll never know. I don’t blame myself. But I know I could have stopped it. 

From then on, protecting Dean required everything I had. I was with him with his every step. I never left his side. I knew what Heaven said. They were confused. But after that night, I couldn’t leave. 

When Dean was seven, I realized I wasn’t going to be able to protect him like everyone else. He was going to be different. He didn’t need protecting physically like most people did. Most seven year olds I watched couldn’t use their brains. They needed to keep from walking into streets and into wells. Dean was different. From the age of four, he had been protecting Sam. He knew better than to walk into streets. He didn’t need my help – until his father began drinking. John was never the same after the fire – I couldn’t blame him. He had lost so much, but around Dean’s seventh birthday, he changed. He became violent. Some nights he would just go to sleep, others were bad. He would yell, scream. Dean would lie on top of Sam trying to shield him, block his father out, and comfort him. And I would be wrapped around them both. 

However, some nights, John was violent. I could protect my charges from many physical attacks, but interfering with parental matters was completely off limits. Even I didn’t dare interfere. Watching John hit Dean caused me more pain than I knew how to process. Dean was careful. Whenever John would drink, he’d hide Sam – in the bathroom, closet, under the bed – just hidden. That would make him take the entirety of John’s wrath. And take it he did. He would eventually fall asleep after it was over – he was covered in cuts and bruises. His face was swollen and angry red. Bumps marred his body from John’s blows. He would silently cry and I would hold him. It became painfully clear that if I couldn’t protect him physically, I would be the caretaker of him emotionally. 

I would hold him on those nights and he cried. Slowly, his breathing evened out and he drifted away.. I couldn’t help comforting him. Ask him now and he’ll never admit it any of this. He’ll never say his father was violent. He’ll never say he hit him. He’ll never admit to crying. But I know better. I was there.

As he got older, some things got better, but some got worse. The beatings got better, but the words got worse. Occasionally, John would forget that Dean was almost stronger than him and hit him. Dean would take it. He was a good son. John was a bad father. But the words never stopped. Especially after Sam left. I don’t believe John ever meant what he said. He would blame Dean when it wasn’t his fault. If someone – anyone got hurt during a hunt, it would be Dean’s fault. I continued to hold him as if he was ten. It was getting harder. Guardian angels don’t have to have a vessel unlike other angels. We have our own corporeal form. Mine was rather small – too small to hold Dean anymore. There were nights when I missed the days he was small, but I felt proud of the man he had become. 

While the night of November 2, 1983, changed the course of Dean’s life, the night of the fire in Stanford changed even more. That night is what set Sam and Dean on their ultimate destiny. If not for that fire, neither of them would be the people they needed to be. I was there. I felt the heat from the fire and the fear from Dean. I never left his side after that. Heaven called me. Heaven went as far as to formally summon me. I didn’t go. I felt like if I left again, something else would go horribly wrong. In all honesty, I was terrified that something else was going to happen. And even with me there, something did happen. 

Dean sold his soul under my care. 

I was devastated. And when he was drug to Hell, I walked away from Earth. For the first time in years, I went back to Heaven. 

Heaven fell silent as walked through. All eyes were watching me. Every angel in Heaven stopped and took notice. I didn’t acknowledge them. I walked straight through, locked myself away, and didn’t come out. 

Four months later, I felt it. I felt Dean Winchester return to Earth. And nothing in Heaven or Hell was going to keep me from him.


End file.
